


Kiss My Scars

by lizzy285



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:30:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzy285/pseuds/lizzy285
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This might be a trigger, so if hearing/visualizing self-harm can trigger you, please don't read it. Also, I am NOT romanticizing, glamourizing, or promoting self harm in any way, and make that very clear through Andy's words/established opinions. Thanks.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Kiss My Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a trigger, so if hearing/visualizing self-harm can trigger you, please don't read it. Also, I am NOT romanticizing, glamourizing, or promoting self harm in any way, and make that very clear through Andy's words/established opinions. Thanks.

—You and Andy have been seeing each other for months. You swear that every time he’s near you, you fall a little bit more in love with the lilt of his voice, the ink that decorates his skin, and the way he measures you with a steely gaze that holds nothing but compassion. You two share everything, from music to chapstick to new vegan recipes and even your darkest secrets. He knows almost everything about you… Everything except the way your thighs are covered in scars, and the way you still get lonely enough to open new cuts on the legs he loves so much.

—Summer is getting nearer every day, and you stare out the window of your bedroom, dreaming about lying in the sun with him, sharing lemonade and learning how to surf. You know that you’ll have to tell him about your self harm, but you just don’t know how. You hate yourself every time you do it, and you’re worried that the man of your dreams will no longer want you when he finds out. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and he cradles your heart in his hands with an angel like touch. He knows that you’ve done drugs and all the other things that he doesn’t believe in. But this, this is different. This is the one thing that Andy has spoken out against time and time again. He doesn’t think it’s right for anyone to waste a perfect, beautiful body. 

\--You remember one night specifically that the two of you had talked about it. It was the first time you'd seriously thought about coming clean. "It's horrible," he'd said across the table the two of you shared. "I don't understand how people can do that to themselves and think that they should be revered for it. It makes me sick, honestly." You hadn't said much after that. You'd been too afraid.

—With a sigh, you pick up the phone and dial the numbers you’ve had committed to memory since the moment you received them. Andy answers on the second ring and your heart swells at the smile in his voice, “Hey beautiful,” he greets.

—You don’t bother with pleasantries, and instead get straight to the point, “Are you free tonight? I… I need you.”

—He is silent for a few moments, as if he can’t quite figure out the weight of your words, “Sure, Y/N. Of course I’m free. What time should I come over?”

—Your words catch in your throat for a split second, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to confess after all. “In about an hour, okay? I should get ready.”

—“Y/N, I can come sooner. You know I don’t care if you’re ‘ready.’” There is concern is his voice, and it makes you smile. You know that Andy loves you, and that he would do anything for you.  He can forgive you for this.

—“An hour,” you repeat. “That will be fine.”

—Once he hangs up, you crawl off of your queen sized bed and cross the room to your closet. You dress in a simple orange sundress that covers the cuts and scars, but could be moved easily enough when you decided to reveal them. You sit back on the edge of the bed and pull up the hem. You look at the jagged cuts, the scars, old and new, thick and thin, smooth and not. You try to imagine what Andy will think when he sees them, and before you know it, there are tears streaming down your face. How could he love you with all of these ugly scars? How could anyone?

—Andy arrives right on time, and you’re beyond thankful that you’ve managed to dry your tears. He’s grinning his beautiful ear-to-ear grin and holding a dozen red roses when you open the front door, “Hello, gorgeous!”

—You can’t help but smile in return and take his hand, pulling him into the front room. He sets the flowers down on the table and you throw yourself into his arms, soaking in his heat and begging for just a little bit of his strength. Tear fill your eyes again, and you know now that there are two things you need to tell him. “Andy,” you whisper. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, and you can see the heartbreak in his when he notices your tears. “I love you,” you whisper. “I love you so much.”

 —He crushes you against his body and buries his face in your hair, “I love you too, Y/N. I have since the day we met…”

—You choke back your tears, “There’s something I need to tell you…”

—His eyes are a little wide when his gaze returns to yours, “Okay,” he mouths.

—The tears are streaming steadily down your face now, and you still aren’t sure if you’re quite ready, but it’s now or never. You refuse to have a love built on secrets. You take a step back from him and ball the hem of your skirt in your fists, “I don’t want you to hate me,” you whimper pathetically. “I know that this is something you completely disagree with, and that you really hate it… I know that sometime you think it's a plea for attention, and this is going to sound cliché, but I need you to understand that I'm sick. I'm sick Andy…”

—He looks confused for several moments, but as you pull your skirt up to reveal what you’ve hidden for so long, the color drains completely from his face. For a split second, he looks utterly disgusted, and you hiccup a sob so fierce that you nearly double over. You open your mouth to apologize, but Andy falls to his knees in front of you and clamps his hands on your hips. He is kissing your scars, and his own tears soak your skin. You know that he isn't doing it because he thinks they're pretty, or that the add to your character, like the twisted love stories tumblr wants to believe. He's trying to take the pain away. “Y/N,” he weeps, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve helped. Baby… Why?”

—You sink slowly to his level and cradle his face in your hands. You have never seen him this broken, and now it is your turn to be strong. Seeing Andy come undone was terrible. You felt like you were drowning. He was your rock, and now you had to keep both of your heads above the water. “I’m sorry, Andy,” you promise. “I hope that you can still love me. I want to work through this with you. I want to get better, and I want you to help me get better. I want you to be there every step of the way. I love you.”

—“I love you,” he whispers back. “I don’t love you any less for these scars. But they are not battle scars, Y/N. They are not something to be proud of. They are a tragedy, and I need  _you_ to understand _that._ I swear that I will be here for you. But you can’t do this anymore. I won't let you write your own ending.”

—He kisses your mouth firmly, and for the first time in a very long time, you don’t want to cut. You don’t hurt. You are complete.


End file.
